


Fate, Automobiles & Other Disasters

by angelesblackqueen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Feuding Neighbors, Florist AU, Modern AU, Movie Star AU, birthday fic, jily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 17:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18077528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelesblackqueen/pseuds/angelesblackqueen
Summary: Lily is quite content owning her little flower shop and feuding with next door neighbor Sirius Black and his errant parking skills, until his best mate, Oscar-winning actor James Potter, moves in.





	Fate, Automobiles & Other Disasters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BeeDaily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeeDaily/gifts).



> So a few days ago, I subtly asked Bee what she might like for a birthday fic and it turned into this...  
> To Bee, because you are truly the loveliest, most amazing, Taylor Swift-loving person on this planet and I adore you. Your writing never fails to make me smile and you always brighten my day. I hope you have beyond the happiest of birthdays.  
> I played fast and loose with your prompt but there IS parking issues with Sirius and James is a dork and I hope this makes you smile. :)

Objectively, Lily is quite certain there’s no such thing as fate.

She’s never bought into the whole astrology, Mercury Retrograde, ‘all of life is planned out by some cosmic being’ trip, no matter how many tarot readings Mary drags her to.

But she thinks there has to be something at work here. Because there is no way in hell she can be _this_ unlucky.

The car, sleek and black and parked at a 90 degree angle, is in her spot.

_Again._

Lily slams the door of the flower shop behind her as she takes the stairs that lead to the flat above the shop two at a time, her rage just about boiling over. Because this is the _last_ straw.

She doesn’t bother knocking on the arse’s door, just shoves it open and stomps right in.

“Sirius Black!” she shouts and rams straight into someone.

There’s a surprised shout as they both grapple for balance and Lily grabs onto the bloke’s arm to keep him from falling over. Glaring furiously, she meets the gaze of—

Not Sirius.

The bloke— _not_ Sirius—blinks at her. His black hair is sticking up in every direction and his glasses are settled a little crookedly on his nose. He’s wearing a coat, even though it’s June and the sun is shining in full force. And he’s attractive. God, is he attractive.

Lily’s mouth goes a bit dry and she stares at him. Then, because she is an idiot, she says, “You’re not Sirius.”

The bloke glances down at himself, then back at her. “Terribly sorry, but no.” He flashes her a quick grin, so charming and at ease it hits her like a punch to the stomach. “May I help you, uh…?”

“Oh!” Lily shakes herself. “Lily. I’m Lily. I own the flower shop downstairs.”

His brows raise. “Really?” She expects some quip about her name, irony of the gods etc. etc., but instead he just goes, “I love that shop. I’ve seen it coming through town for years, but I’ve never been in before.”

This surprises Lily, because she and Mary have only been in business for three years, but she pushes it aside, along with her extremely ill-timed pulse fluttering whenever she looks at this bloke. “Thank you,” she says, even though there’s something kind of odd about this bloke. Something strangely familiar. She remembers her reason for coming in and a scowl settles back on her face. “Is Sirius here?”

“Not at the moment,” the bloke says and takes in her expression. “Which I would say is probably good for him. What did he do this time?”

“It’s…a long story,” Lily says, then squints at him. Her skin prickles. “Hey, are you--”

“Evans!” The door slams and Sirius Black strides into the flat. He sneers at her. “What the fuck are you doing in my home?”

Lily’s blood begins to boil and she narrows her eyes at him. “What I am doing,” she hisses, “is preparing to sue you. You parked in my spot! _Again._ ”

“Chill, Evans,” Sirius snorts, giving her a look. “There aren’t assigned spots.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” Lily snaps, taking a step closer. “I have been here for two whole years longer than you and I am _not_ going to take this any longer—”

“It’s convenient,” Sirius snaps back and the bloke she ran into makes a protesting noise.

“Hey,” he says. “You shouldn’t park in her spot. She does have a point.”

Sirius gives him a disgusted look. “Fucking knew you’d side with the bird,” he spits. “James—”

It hits her like a train wreck and Lily makes an audible choking sound as she stares at James.

_James._ James Potter.

No wonder there was something familiar about him. Familiar because Lily has seen his face on her telly screen more times than she can count, she’s heard his name mentioned in cafes and shops across the city. Even though she’s generally apathetic towards pop culture, even she’s heard of him.

James Potter, three time Oscar winner and world-famous actor.

In Sirius Black’s living room, watching her yell.

James catches the look and an unexpected grimace crosses his face. “Knew it’d hit eventually,” he says and gives her a little wave. He’s still grinning. “I’m James, nice to meet you.”

Lily is in shock, still not over the fact that a celebrity is standing in front of her, but thankfully Sirius takes the opportunity to say, “You can just take your complaints, Evans and shove them--”

Lily laughs, a sharp burst of sound and glares at him. “I don’t think so,” she says and steps even closer to him. “I’ve had to deal with a year of this bullshit. Move your fucking car, or I’m going to McGonagall.”

“Tattling to the owner?” Sirius sneers. “How schoolyard of you, Evans. You’d never do it.”

He has a point and Lily knows she’d never actually go to McGonagall—because it does seem like the sort of thing a schoolgirl would do and also because that woman is a pillar of steel and would likely just kick Lily out of the building.

But she glares at him regardless and says coldly, “Try me.”

They stare each other down and James, standing awkwardly off to the side, clears his throat. “Um, I don’t have any idea what this is about…” he says. “Except, clearly, some sort of parking disaster. But as I’d like my first meet with the new neighbors to go a little better than this, how about Sirius moves the car for today and you, uh, stop yelling?” he pauses. “Or keep yelling. Whatever you’d like. Far be it from me to tell a lady what to do.”

Lily stares at him, not just because of what he’s saying, but because he said…

“Wait, did you just say new neighbor?” she blurts.

Sirius sounds sullen as he says, “He’s moving in for a while. Fucking freeloader.”

“Fuck you,” James says amiably, then turns that charming, red-carpet smile on Lily and she feels like melting into a puddle. “Hope that’s alright,” he says.

Alright? _Alright?_

What can she say except, “Yeah, it’s—fine. That’s good.” She shakes her head to clear it and catches sight of the time on the clock hanging crookedly on the wall. _Shit._ “I have to go,” she says. “Black, I expect that car to be gone by the time I get back.”

Sirius grumbles and makes a rude hand gesture at her, to which she responds with a scathing glare and turns to James. Her heart thumps. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Uh, it was nice to meet you,” she says.

James grins at her. “Likewise,” he says. “Sorry about this arse.”

Lily cracks a smile, then, with a last glare at Sirius, turns and gets out of there as fast as possible.

The stairway leads down to the street and Lily shoves open the door to the little flower shop and shouts, “Mary! We’re late!”

Mary, standing behind the counter in a red wrap dress and heels, blinks at her. “I am aware,” she says dryly. “It’s four.” She frowns at Lily. “Is _that_ what you’re planning to wear to the wedding?”

Lily glances down at herself—she’s still wearing her jeans and a flower print blouse—then curses. “You get the car, I’ll change really quick,” she says, heading into the backroom. “And put up the closed sign!”

Lily shoves off her jeans and struggles into her green dress and puts on her heels while she rushes back to the door. “Don’t have time to do my hair,” she gasps out to Mary, who is holding open the door. “Fuck—”

“You’ve been stressing over this wedding for six months,” Mary says as she pulls open the door to the car and gets into the driver’s seat. “Is this last minute panic a flare up of latent jealousy?”

Lily scoffs. “Of course not,” she snaps. “Jake and I have been broken up for years.” Very broken up. “I was just yelling at Black.”

“Without me?” Mary asks and sounds all outraged. “You know that’s my afternoon entertainment!”

“Lovely best friend you are,” Lily jabs back. “But no, there was someone else there. One of his mates I think. He’s moving in.”

“Is he fit?” Mary asks with a spark of interest.

“He’s James Potter.”

Mary almost crashes the car.

“Watch where you’re going!” Lily shouts as they swerve and Mary corrects the course of the car, then gapes at Lily.

“James Potter,” she says. _“James_ Potter.”

“I am aware of his name,” Lily says, making a face. “And yes—for God’s sake, Mary, keep your _eyes_ on the road. I don’t want to die before I’m twenty five.”

Mary doesn’t pay her any attention as they leave the city and enter the rolling countryside. “James Potter, three time Oscar-winner, lives in a mansion in LA, once dated Taylor Swift—is living in the crappy little flat above our flower shop?”

“We don’t know he dated Taylor Swift,” Lily argues, even though Mary has a point. About the ridiculousness of the situation, not the dating Taylor Swift thing.

Mary shoots her a look though. “They were holding hands, Lil,” she says, “while walking through Brooklyn and he gave her his scarf. I think they were dating.”

Lily huffs. “Does his ex-girlfriend really have a bearing on this conversation?” she demands. “He’s our new neighbor, it’s not a big deal.”

“Maybe to you,” Mary snipes as they merge onto the motorway. “Fucking hell, I’d give anything to jump James Potter.”

“You are _not_ sexually assaulting our neighbor,” Lily says, glaring at Mary.

Mary sticks out her tongue. “So Black’s been holding out on us,” she muses. “Arsehole. I asked him once if he’d ever met Emma Stone, he said no. Lying little shit. Wonder what he’s doing here.”

“Sirius? Making my life miserable.”

Mary rolls her eyes. “No, you moron. _James._ He’s been kinda disappeared from the radar recently, ever since that film in Paris won the Oscar in January.”

Lily taps her fingers on the door. “Maybe he wants peace and quiet,” she says. “Get out of the limelight. Celebrities do that sometimes.” She releases a harsh breath. “Can we just stop talking about it, please? He’s our neighbor, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to see him all the time. It’s no big deal.”

Mary looks like she wants to argue, but chooses to hold her tongue.

If what she ends up saying instead is something like, “I’m only withholding my criticism of that obvious bullshit because you are clearly mentally unstable due to attending your ex’s wedding, and I don’t need a loony business partner,” and Lily’s response is to threaten to dunk her head in a bucket of water for a good two million seconds…well, she’s never claimed to be particularly sane.

* * *

 

There is nothing quite like being the jilted ex at a wedding and Lily tries not to look like she’s about to die as she wanders through the reception hall.

It’s not that she’s hung up on Jake—she’s glad he’s happy, and they’ve managed to stay friends despite their mutual split—it’s just that she’s twenty four and alone and getting drunk at her ex’s wedding.

“La-di-da for parties,” Lily mutters, downing the rest of her champagne along with a totally unrelated but absolutely warranted dose of humiliation.

Fucking hell, she’d _yelled_ in front of James Potter.

“Lily? Lily Evans?”

A voice speaks behind her and Lily twists. Her eyes widen. “Alice?”

Alice Longbottom beams at her, just as round-faced and jolly as she’d been in secondary school. At her side is her longtime best friend Dorcas Meadowes.

Lily shakes away her shock and gives them each a hug. “Wow, I haven’t seen you two in ages,” she says.

“I know,” Dorcas says, grinning. “You never were good at picking up the phone, Lil.”

Lily makes a face at her, happy to find that even years of distance didn’t diminish Dorcas’s snark.

“How are you?” asks Alice. “How’s Mary? The shop?”

“Both are good,” Lily says. She waves a hand. “Busy. Life, you know.”

“Don’t I ever,” Dorcas says with a snort. “Speaking of—I actually wanted to talk to you about contributing some pieces for the July issue of the Quibbler. We’re doing it on fledgling artists. I’m the editor now, and of course I thought of you immediately. You are still drawing, aren’t you?”

“Not so much lately,” Lily says. She shifts. “I haven’t done anything serious since school.”

“Well, would you consider it?” Dorcas asks. “I remember in art class you always left everyone in the dust. You have a real talent.”

_Had,_ Lily thinks, but smiles and says, “Sure. I’ll think about it.”

But between the shop and Mary and her family…Lily knows she won’t do it. Her art is all in the past.

Dorcas and Alice don’t seem to have the same innate Lily Lie Detector that Mary has, so they just smile, Dorcas gives Lily her mobile number, and move on.

Lily stares at the little business card, then slips it into her purse and turns towards the bar. She needs a drink.

Mary waylays her just as she’s ordering an Old Fashioned.

“I’ve got it,” her friend says and Lily raises a brow.

“Got what, exactly?” she asks.

“James,” Mary answers promptly, as if they hadn’t declared the subject closed mere hours ago. “Maybe he left the industry to get away from a jilted ex-lover!”

Lily gives Mary a disgusted look. “You’re mental,” she says. “And creepy.”

“Ooh—or maybe he’s in witness protection!”

“Because they so often send you to witness protection with your best mate,” Lily says flatly.

“Well, obviously Sirius is an agent is disguise. That’s why he drinks so much vodka and speaks Russian.”

“Let’s add drunk to the list, shall we?”

Mary points her finger in Lily’s face. “Mark my words, Lily Evans,” she says. “Something is afoot.” Suddenly, her face turns wicked. “Who knows? Maybe you two will fall madly for each other and have a big epic romance.”

Lily scoffs loudly enough to make some guests glance her way. “Absolutely not,” she says. “He’s our neighbor and moreover, he’s a celebrity. I’m a florist. Just…no. Besides, I hate celebrities.”

Mary looks far too gleeful. “We’ll see,” is all she says.

Lily scowls and hits her with a cocktail napkin.

* * *

 

“I will never eat another biscuit in my life,” Mary declares and slams a bucket of gladiolas on the counter the next day.

“Lies,” Lily says, stealing one of the flowers and twirling it in her fingers. The early morning sunlight in the shop turns the petals opaque. “Lies, lies, lies. Dare I ask where this newfound dieting has come from?”

Mary snorts in her face. “Diet? As _if._ No.” She props her hands on her hips and wrinkles her nose at the gladiolas. “ _Andrew,”_ she draws out the name. “Likes biscuits. So I don’t like biscuits. Or I’ll make him not like them. Maybe I can condition him, like that Paylo fellow.”

“Pavlov,” Lily says dryly. “Conditioning. Very useful for boyfriends on the outs.”

“Ugh, don’t even start with that word. He keeps going on about _commitment._ ”

Lily hides her smile and she sets down the flower. “Sorry—very useful for your boytoy on the side,” she says. She glances at the clock. “It’s eight, so get your arse moving or I’ll whack you over the head with a bunch of pansies.”

“Pansy,” Mary mutters, but grudgingly puts on her apron and pulls open the till. “Get the door, will you?” she says.

Lily rolls her eyes—Mary flips her off—but goes to the front of the little shop and unlocks the front door. The entire front wall is windows and she and Mary (mostly her) have crammed as many flowers into display as they can. The familiar floral scent, tasting like spring, floats around her and Lily hums as she moves a bucket of roses with her foot.

She loves mornings, and today, with Sirius at work all day and no cars to worry about, she’s perfectly set on being happy.

A customer comes in and Lily smiles at them. “Morning, Olivia,” she says.

“Hi, Lily,” Oliva grins. “You have my usual?”

“Two dozen yellow roses,” Lily declares, handing over the package. “You know, I think you’re the only daughter in the world as committed as this. I just my get my mum some chocolate when I go visit.”

Olivia laughs. “Bribery,” she says. “Mum loves the roses.”

“As well she should,” Mary says. “They’re fabulous.”

Olivia smiles, thanks them again and leaves.

“I love people,” Lily sighs.

Mary snorts. “Goody,” she says.

A few more regulars come in, then someone she’s never seen before and as Lily rings him up, looking at the bundle of two dozen yellow roses and the nervous looking man and wondering if this was the sort of day that is going to end in a marriage proposal or a shoe being thrown at his head. She is no stranger to the last one.

“Oy, ray of sunshine,” Mary says from the side as the customer left and throws a gladiola at her head. “Tone down the happy-look. You’re scaring away the customers.”

Lily sticks out her tongue at her. (Mary is not a morning person.)

For the three years they’ve owned this little business together, they’ve also shared a flat just a block away. In the beginning it was because neither of them could afford to get their own place, having put all their money into the flower shop. But even though they now had the means to do so if they chose, there was a comforting routine to sharing a place and Lily hates living alone, so they stayed in the same situation. Sometimes Mary pretends that they’re married, rather than roommates, and Lily indulges her strange fantasies (not to mention it was rather hilarious to see people’s expressions when Mary pointed dramatically at her and said that’s my wife).

Lily is redrawing the violets on the chalkboard when there’s a sudden screech and then a small, furred body streaks into the shop.

She drops the chalk and Mary swears.

Lily twists frantically as the little furry animal—some sort of cat—hisses menacingly and then takes off running around the shop. Lily jumps down from the counter just as the cat knocks over the rose display and she lets out a noise. “No!” she waves her arms at the cat. “No--”

Mary has climbed up onto a chair and is glaring quite vehemently at the cat, which is _very_ helpful, but Lily is too busy trying to grab the cat to scold her.

It’s a strange breed—black, but with little gold markings around the eyes, almost like glasses.

“Rita!” There’s a shout from outside and Lily looks up just as James Potter runs into the shop. Behind her, Mary makes a little squeak.

He’s out of breath and his glasses are crooked, but he spots the cat and his eyes widen. “Rita! Shit, fuck, I am so sorry--”

Lily’s heart is suddenly pounding and she feels a flush working up her neck.

James swoops forward and grabs the cat round the middle. She doesn’t resist his hold, but does yowl alarmingly loudly. It’s the screeching sound from before.

“What the fuck?” Mary asks, saying exactly what Lily is thinking, just with less tact. She hasn’t moved from her perch on the chair.

James grimaces at them. “I am so, so, so sorry,” he says quickly. “I left the door open and she got out and then she came in here--” He spots the rose display and winces. “I’ll fix that,” he says. “Promise. God—I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lily says, getting over her shock. “Really. We’ve had worse incidents with dogs in here before. No harm done.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mary mutters, but reluctantly steps down from the chair. “That cat is a demon.”

James scowls at the squirming cat. “Can’t argue with that,” he says. “Rita is…”

“Difficult?” Lily suggested.

“I was going to go with hellish,” James says. “Or maybe the Devil in disguise. Nothing good.”

The cat yowls and starts thrashing and James goes over to the door and puts her down. “Get out of here,” he tells her and Rita gives him a back-arching hiss, then races off down the street.

“Won’t she get lost?” Lily asks.

James shakes his head, turning back to them. “Rita doesn’t get lost,” he says. “It’s more if she’ll deign to come back. Each time she leaves, I’m torn between hoping she comes back or hoping she get doesn’t.”

“I would go with doesn’t,” Mary says. She squints at James. “For a celebrity, you’d think you could afford a nicer cat.”

Lily glares at her.

James laughs. “Eh, I’m kinda fond of her,” he says with a shrug. “Sorry for barging in like that, by the way. I’m James Potter.”

Mary looks him up and down. “You don’t say.”

“You must be Mary,” James says. “Sirius has mentioned you a few times. Usually with lots of swearing.”

Mary shrugs. “I may have backed my car into his once or twice,” she admits unrepentantly. “Your mate’s an arse.”

Lily sucks in a breath, horrified, but James cracks a grin. “Trials of cohabiting with Sirius Black,” he says. “We who love him best must have a high tolerance for uh…”

“Arse-ishness?” Mary suggests.

“Exactly!” James says, nodding with a pleased expression.

Mrs. Hendriks enters the shop and Mary says, “Hold the conversation. Lily, keep him here. I want to grill him about meeting Colin Firth.”

Mrs. Hendrik’s smiles at Lily. “Good morning,” she says. “Lily, how’s your family?”

“Good, thanks,” Lily says. “Mary’ll help you with the flowers.”

Mary does that and Lily turns to James, her skin prickling. “Ignore her, she’s mental,” she says.

James laughs. “I appreciate the fellow kindred spirit,” he says. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Her cheeks turn red. “Oh, right. Listen, I’m sorry about the other day—I didn’t mean to, uh, yell. So much.”

“Don’t worry about it,” James says, that red-carpet smile she’s seen plastered across so many screens and billboards sent her way. It makes her heart pound and she hates herself for it. “Sirius needs some sense knocked into him occasionally. I’ve tried to get him to not park in your spot anymore, but I don’t know how well it’s going to work.”

“Oh—thank you,” Lily says. She leans back against the counter, casting about for a topic that won’t make her turn red. “So, are we going to get swarms of paparazzi?”

For the first time James’s grin fades a little. “No,” he says. “Nobody really…knows I’m here.” He glances at her. “I mean it’s not like a secret or anything, but if you could maybe not, you know, announce to the world that I’m here that would be great.”

Lily raises her hand. “Scout’s honor,” she tells him. “Even though I was never a Girl Scout.”

His lips twitch. “Thanks. I’m just taking a little break from everything and Sirius has been my best mate since forever, so here I am.”

_Aha, I was right._

“That’s good,” Lily says, nodding like an idiot. “Breaks are good.”

Mary suddenly darts back in, Mrs. Hendrik’s gone. “You know,” she says to James, “you really should’ve leaned more into that kiss in _Cutting Corners._ You looked like you were snogging a cabbage.”

“Mary!” Lily says.

James looks surprised, but not offended. “Sometimes I try to forget movies I’ve been in,” he confesses. “That kiss…was definitely not my best work.” He grinned sheepishly. “I actually apologized to Daphne after it. She laughed at me.”

Mary doesn’t look impressed. “If it were _me_ snogging some gorgeous woman,” she says, looking a bit dreamy, “I’d draw her right in close and run my hands up her—”

“Alright, I think we’ve heard enough,” Lily interjects.

James is laughing and Lily grimaces. “Sorry, she’s mental,” she says.

Mary throws a flower at her.

James shifts. “You know, it’s actually kind of fortuitous that Rita ran in here,” he says. “I was hoping to get some flowers for someone.”

Lily’s heart drops. (She tells it not to.) “Oh? Any specific meaning?”

James shrugs and runs a hand through his mop of hair. “Something that says feel better…and affection? Or something like that.” He looks sheepish and confesses, “I know shit about flowers.”

“Well, generally daisies are a good pick—they’re bright and friendly and limited pollen, if your friend has allergies,” Lily says. “Also, green flora is said to symbolize health, so maybe something with a lot of leaves, like Rock Roses. And then there’s always roses, for affection.”

James nods, looking considering. “Your thoughts?” he asks her.

Lily considers for a moment, leaning against the counter. “Honestly, I’d go with the daisies,” she says. “Greenery with symbolism is all well and good, but I don’t think I’d like to receive a bouquet that looks like a salad.” _And roses are romance._

He snorts. “Daisies it is, then,” he says, picking up one of the pre-made bundles and twirling it. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, uh…” Lily quickly moves behind the counter. “16£,” she requests.

James hands over a credit card and she swipes it as Mary—uncharacteristically silent—wraps the daisies in a damp cloth and a tissue paper sleeve.

“Thank you,” James says, taking the flowers. “And again, sorry about Rita. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get in here again.”

“Good,” Mary says and Lily elbows her. “It was fine,” she tells James. “I’m sure she’s a, uh, nice cat.”

He snorts. “I’ll let you believe that,” he says. He waves. “I’ll see you two around.”

Lily waves back and watches him leave the shop, his bouquet of daisies for his affectionate friend tucked under his arm and tells herself she is being an idiot.

Mary steps back from the counter and grins smugly at her. “You two are so going to happen,” she informs her.

This time, Lily hits her with a bouquet.

* * *

 

The heat of summer begins to creep over the city over the next few days and Lily switches out her jeans and T-shirts for sundresses that have delightfully twirly skirts (she only twirls in the shop once. Or twice. Or five times. Mary caught her and scolded her, then put on music and joined her).

Mary is still insistent that James is going to fall madly in love with Lily, which Lily is firmly certain is absolutely ridiculous.

“You have the same taste in music!” she points out one day while they sit on their couch and watch the extended edition of _The Lord of the Rings._

Lily shoots her a look. “And the only reason we know that is because he is an inconsiderate millionaire who prevents people from sleeping,” she says.

“Just because he blasts Taylor Swift at 2 AM doesn’t mean he’s a devil,” Mary says. “Besides, don’t pretend---I caught you dancing to Shake It Off yesterday.”

“Moment of weakness,” Lily says.

But no matter what she says to Mary, she still finds herself making excuses to be outside the shop whenever he’s going to or from somewhere. He always stops to chat for a second, then moves on, but he doesn’t come back into the shop and Lily isn’t sure if she’d disappointed by that or not.

Then comes Thursday.

She and Sirius got into a huge argument over the parking situation a few days ago ( _again)_ and are now not speaking to each other, but thankfully his car is in shop so all she has to contend with is his—God help her—motorbike. James never parks in her spot, and she’s thankful for small miracles.

She and Mary are sitting together behind the counter, playing cards, and the bell on the door tinkles.

Lily looks up and sees James enter the shop, a sandy-haired bloke in a polo walking behind him.

Mary raises an eyebrow at them. “Sans demon cat, I see,” she says.

James grins. “Rita’s taking the day off,” he informs her, then smiles at Lily. “Hi, Lily.”

“James,” she says, waving.

“Who’s the friend?” Mary asks, jerking her chin at the other bloke.

He looks up. “I’m Remus,” he says with a nod. He’s got kind eyes, but he looks tired. “Remus Lupin.”

James grins at him and tosses an arm around his shoulders. “He’s the one I got the flowers for,” he informs them. “Thankfully, he’s feeling better now.”

Lily blinks and Mary, who had been spinning absently on the swivel chair, comes to a sudden halt.

Unaware of the effect his words had, James continues, “But I was actually hoping I could get some more?”

“More?” Lily repeats, her mouth not quite caught up with her head. Fucking hell. _How did she not know this?_

“Flowers?” James says, looking at her strangely. “More flowers?”

“Oh, right,” she says, standing up. “Right. What kind?”

“Something that says fuck you,” Remus says, his hands in his pocket. He has an amused half-smile on his face. “James is trying to subtly tell his mum to piss off.”

“That’ll be nice for the family peace,” Mary says.

James shrugs. “Mum’ll think they’re funny,” he says. “Any ideas?”

Mary hooks a thumb at Lily. “She’s the flower meaning expert,” she says.

Lily steps out from behind the counter. “Well, in the center you could put Wild Tansy meaning I declare war against you and for all you stand for,” she says. She considers the wall of flowers. “Then you’ll probably want to surround the Tansy with Dodder, a parasitic plant which represents lack that necessitates friendship--or meanness in the old fashioned sense.”

James beams. “Perfect.”

“Basil meaning hatred, Red or White Garden Anemone, meaning illness or poison—it was once believed just breathing the anemone would make one ill,” Lily continues, ticking them off on her fingers.  “Fragrant Coltsfoot in this context means you’ll get what you deserve. The whole thing should be wrapped in Privet, which means prohibition—in other words stay away. If the sentiment has been a long time coming you’ll want to have privet with berries.”

“You are amazing,” James says, smiling and Lily glances at Remus, then smiles back at him, trying to get rid of the awkwardness. It’s not about him—not at all. It’s just that Mary’s comments got into her head and he’s just really, _really_ good looking and…

“Thanks,” she says, then rings him up.

Remus seems nice and he and James seem genuinely affectionate with each other and Lily finds herself hoping they’re happy as they leave.

Mary, watching them go, stands up. “He’s not gay,” she declares.

Lily scowls at her. “The evidence is to the contrary,” she snaps.

Mary just hums knowingly.

* * *

 

Lily crouches on the pavement, arranging flowers in buckets. It’s a Saturday, so the shop is busy and Marlene, the other girl who works when she or Mary take a day off, is handling customers inside.

A shadow passes over her and Lily looks up.

James, carrying a messenger bag, grins at her. “Fancy seeing you here,” he says.

Lily smiles back at him, getting to her feet. “Back at you,” she says. “Heading home?”

“Heading out, actually,” he says, then his expression turns a bit sheepish. “Actually, I was wondering if you could help me…see, I’ve never taken the tube before and I’m not sure exactly how it works--”

Lily can’t help herself. She laughs. “You’ve never taken the tube before?” she asks him incredulously. “Seriously?”

“I live in LA,” he reminds her. “And I’m a privileged arsehole. So, no, I’m afraid I have not.”

Lily snorts and props her hands on her hips. “Movie stars,” she tuts, shaking her head. She considers James, standing there looking sheepish, then says, “Alright, just give me a minute to grab my purse.”

James’s brows shot up. “Pardon?”

“With your frightening lack of experience, you may well end up mutilating someone,” she says. “For the safety of all, I think it’s better if you have a seasoned traveler with you.”

“Aren’t you working?”

Lily shrugs, turning towards the shop. “Marlene owes me—I covered her shift last week.”

His confused face slowly morphs into a grin. “Well, if you insist,” he says.

Lily grabs her purse and, seeing the sunny sky well on its way to a forbidding grey, takes her coat as well.

James is waiting for her on the pavement and Lily leads them towards the nearest entrance to the tube.

“So,” she says as they walk. “James Potter, Oscar-winning actor—tell me about yourself.”

James glances at her. “Don’t you know it already?” he asks. He doesn’t sound conceited—or doesn’t mean to sound conceited. And it’s warranted, because everyone and their mum knows who he is.

But Lily shrugs. “I know the Wikipedia version,” she says.

James considers that. “There’s not much more to tell,” he confesses. “I grew up in Lancashire--”

“See? I didn’t know that,” she says. “I actually grew up in Lancashire, too.”

James looks at her. “Really?” They take the steps down into the station and board the tube (James looks fascinated by everything and Lily resists the urge to laugh). “Well, uh, I’m an only child—my parents are older—but I’ve known Sirius since I was about five and he basically lived with us growing up.”

“How did you meet Remus?” Lily asks, curious as the train rattles.

James’s brow furrows. “Remus? Met him in school when I was about eight. Sirius fucking hated him at first, but I liked him and a few years later we were all friends.” He sighs. “Don’t seem them as much anymore since I’ve moved to LA, but we’ve still got the kind of friendship we’re convinced will last forever.”

“That’s the best type of friendship,” Lily says, thinking of Mary.

The tube comes to a stop and they get off and enter the main thoroughfare of town. Lily spreads her arms. “Congratulation, James Potter,” she says solemnly. “You have officially rode the tube.”

James grins. “I feel so mature now,” he says, puffing out his chest. “Like I’m a real man now.”

Lily laughs and they head down a cobblestone street. She’s considering getting some ice cream ever though the temperatures have dropped to chilly when there’s a little shriek from behind them and someone comes up to them.

“Excuse me?” It’s a girl of about sixteen and her friends, and her face is red. “Um…are you James Potter?”

James turns the charming smile on them. “So my mum told me,” he says.

The girls titter and Lily bites her lip to prevent herself from smiling.

“Um, could I—would you mind if we took a picture with you? Or got your autograph? Katie—do you have a pen?”

“Sure,” James says easily. He grins. “Honestly, I always turn out horrible in pictures, so if you see these later and cringe, please feel free to demand a full refund.”

Lily muffles her laughter. She ends up taking the picture for them and the girls seem to have reached an overload of happiness when James gives them each a hug. They don’t pay any attention to her, but Lily doesn’t mind. James’s face is lit up, an easy sort of grace to his motions as he handles the attention.

Once they’ve gone, James turns back to her. “Sorry about that,” he says.

“Hazard of the job,” Lily says, knocking her shoulder against his. “Honestly, I’m just glad we didn’t get mobbed leaving the tube. That wouldn’t have been pretty.”

“No, it would not,” James agrees. He looks around. “So, have you lived here your whole life? I mean, I know you were born in Lancashire, but when did you move out here?”

Lily shrugs. “I lived in Lancashire all through secondary school,” she says. “Then Mary and I both ended going to uni around here and just before we graduated, we realized, oh fuck, we actually need jobs now,” he laughs, “and this little old lady was selling her flower business. We loved the shop and the area, so we bought it.”

“So you didn’t grow up wanting to own a flower shop?” James asks, sounding interested.

“Not exactly,” Lily says slowly. “I mean, I’ve always loved flowers and I love the shop, but it wasn’t exactly in my plan. It just sort of happened.”

“Well, what did you want to be growing up?” he asks.

Lily is about the answer when she catches sight of the train station ahead of them. An idea sparks. She glances at James. “I have somewhere I want to show you,” she says. “Patented local spot, no one else knows about it.”

His brows raise. “Color me intrigued,” he says, then glances up at the sky and frowns. “It looks like it’s about to start raining, though.”

Lily arches a brow at him. “Afraid of getting wet, Potter?”

James’s eyes narrow. “Not at all, Evans,” he says. “Bring it.”

Lily grins and, tucking her purse underneath her coat, heads for the train station. The train is about to depart and she—amidst James’s protests—buys them both tickets. They board and Lily sits back in her seat.

James sits across from her, grinning and she’s struck by how different he looks.

She’s seen his movies before of course, and even seen a few interviews on red carpets and such. He always looks so…polished, with just a hint of a rake. Charming and funny. And he’s all of these things in real life too, but there’s an air of carelessness about him that he doesn’t have there.

He looks carefree, she decides.

The train ride is short and they spend it debating whether or not Hollywood is getting worse and worse—Lily is firmly pro, whereas James says that even though it’s a fucked up mess right now, there’s room to grow if people try. Lily is skeptical that people will even want to, and in the end they agree to disagree.

“Disagreement is healthy,” James claims as they climb out of the train. “Bolsters the spirit.” He frowns around them. “Where are we?”

Lily grins and sets off across the damp grassy plain. They’re in what is virtually the middle of nowhere, only a grassy hill ahead of them a straggly little forest to the west. “Come on,” she says.

James hurries to catch up with her and as they hike up the hill, thighs burning, little droplets of rain begin to fall from the sky.

They crest the hill and James comes to a halt, his eyes widening.

Lily smiles.

On the other side of the hill is the crumbled remains of a castle. They’re as common as stones in England, but Lily likes this one in particular. It’s got an empty charm to it, the crumbling stone pillars and the velvet green grass in the rain.

“Some Duke lived here,” she says. “Ages and ages ago. No one important enough to bring out the historians and the tourists, but it’s something of a local spot. Mary and I come out here every once in a while, just to relax.”

She looks at James and sees the smiles spreading across his face. “I love this,” he says. “Fuck, LA is a wasteland compared to this.” He spins in place, the rain beginning to come down harder and Lily laughs.

They head down the hill and into the ruins and James acts like a little kid, jumping up onto the crumbling walls and throwing out his arms.

The rain is cold, but Lily welcomes it, tilting her head up to catch the raindrops on her face. She smiles, spinning in place herself.

When she opens her eyes James is watching her.

Her cheeks heat and she gives him a little wave. “Having fun?” she calls to him.

“Absolutely,” he replies, then holds out a hand. “Come on.”

Lily accepts it and he pulls her up onto the wall as well. Standing side by side, they look down at the green valley below them. There’s a little town a ways away, but there’s no one around but them.

Lily smiles and catches James’s eye. “Pretty great, right?” she asks.

“Amazing,” he says.

“You know,” she decides, looking at him. “You’re alright for a celebrity.”

“Yeah,” he says, grinning. “For a celebrity. We’re a pretty shitty bunch.”

Just then a crack of thunder rips through the sky and Lily looks up. Lightning flashes and she swears. “Shit, we should get back.” She goes to check her phone for the time, then reconsiders. “You up for a dash in the rain?” she asks James.

He grins at her. “Am I ever,” he says and jumps down.

Lily follows, squinting through the suddenly heavy downpour of rain. Her clothes are soaked and her bare legs are freezing. Another crack of thunder.

They take off and Lily lets out a wordless shriek as she almost slips on the muddy ground.

The rain comes down harder and harder and she finds herself laughing as the train station comes into view. “English weather!” she shouts. “Bet you missed this in LA!”

She hears James laugh. “Did I ever,” he says.

* * *

 

Lily holds her breath later that evening as she dials the number on her mobile.

She’s curled up on the couch in her flat and Mary is pottering away in the kitchen, humming something extremely off-tune. The ringing stops and it goes to voicemail. Lily releases a breath.

“Hey, Dorcas,” she says into the receiver. “This is Lily. I, uh, just wanted to tell you that I’d love to submit some pieces for the magazine. I don’t have anything done right now, but I could get some pieces done in the next few days and send them to you. Call me back with the details and deadlines and things. Hope you’re having a good evening. Thanks.” She hangs up and slumps back into the couch.

Mary comes over with a glass of wine in hand. She hands it to Lily. “Good job, my love,” she says, tucking Lily’s legs under her own. “Getting back into art will be good for you.”

Lily takes a gulp of her wine and doesn’t answer.

Just then her mobile rings and she looks down, expecting it to be Dorcas, but it’s a number she doesn’t recognize.

Warily, she presses accept and brings the phone up to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hey,” James says and her brows shoot up.

“James?” she says. Mary perks up. “How did you get my number?”

“Uh, Sirius had it,” James says and there’s a muffled voice shouting in the background, “Fucking wanker!” Sirius says. “Using phone privileges to call Evans.”

“Shut up,” James tells him, then returns to Lily. “Sorry about him. I hope you’ve recovered from our little jaunt in the rain.”

“Entirely,” Lily says. “All dry and warm and boozing it up with Mary on my couch.”

“Tell Mary hi for me.”

“He says hi,” Lily tells Mary, who sticks out her tongue. She rolls her eyes. “She returns the sentiment.”

She can hear the grin in his voice. “I’m sure. Listen—tomorrow I’m going to London for this party. It’s some sort of fundraiser and you know, the party itself probably won’t be that fun, but the food will be good and there might be some interesting people--”

“Fucking hell,” she hears Sirius groan. “You’re pathetic mate.”

James hisses something at him she can’t hear, then says, “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

Lily blinks and blurts, “But—shouldn’t you take Remus?”

 “Uh, well, he’s out of town,” James says, sounding confused.

“Oh,” she says.

There’s a pause. “So, do you want to go?” James asks again.

“Oh, well…” Lily presses the heel of her hand to her eyes and kicks at Mary, who is trying to inch closer to the phone. “Sure. Yeah, I’d love to come.”

“Great,” he says and he sounds pleased. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Great,” Lily says back and there’s an awkward silence. She clears her throat. “Well…goodnight.”

“Night,” James responds, then the line goes dead.

Mary, having successfully eavesdropped on the conversation—she curses her phone’s loud, shitty speakers—doesn’t say anything, but gives her a smug look that says everything.

Lily takes a gulp of her wine and doesn’t say anything either.

* * *

 

“It’s a date,” Mary sings as Lily lies on her stomach on their living room floor the next day.

“No, it is not,” she snaps, reaching for a pen as she traces the shape of a magnolia onto thick paper. It’s been ages since she drew, but the movements are still familiar, still calming. “It is not a date, Mary MacDonald, and you will not say that it is one. He has a boyfriend.”

“Don’t you think if he had a boyfriend we would have heard about it by now?” Mary points out. “He’s only one of the most famous actors in the world. And he dated Taylor Swift!”

Lily shoves herself to her feet, glaring at Mary. “We don’t know that!” she snaps. “And besides, he could be bisexual.” She digs the tip of her pen into her finger. “And his sexuality is both none of our concern and irrelevant to this discussion, because no matter who he’s dating, James isn’t the type to cheat. So this is not a date. We’re going as friends. Just friends.”

Mary scowls. “You’re being stubborn,” she informs her. “James never actually said Remus was his boyfriend.”

“He got him flowers!”

Mary throws up her hands. “You’re mental,” she informs her and stomps off. “I’m going to work.”

Lily scowls at her retreating back, then returns to her drawing. She keeps her mind off tonight by concentrating on her art and the hours blend together.

Mary gets home around six thirty and Lily takes a break to shower and change into her dress for the party, then, seeing she still has an hour until James arrives, she sits down carefully and continues drawing.

At eight the doorbell rings and Mary goes to answer it while Lily puts away her stuff.

“Hello,” Mary says to James, who’s wearing a dapper tux and looks…well, he looks brilliant.

Lily smiles at him as she approaches and his eyes go briefly wide as he sees her dress, which is gold and floor-length and she’s been hoping for an occasion to wear for the past six months.

“Have fun,” Mary says with a pointed look.

Lily flips her off discretely as she smiles at James. “Hi,” she says. “Ready to go?”

He nods and Lily passes Mary as they exit into the hallway.

When James isn’t looking, Mary mouths: _It’s a date._

“Goodnight, Mary,” Lily says and shuts the door in her face. She takes a deep breath and turns to James.

He’s eyeing her with amusement, but she fixes a smile to her face and says, “Shall we?”

They leave the building and Lily sees a sleek black car parked by the pavement. “Impressive,” she says, nodding.

James grins. “Only the best for a fellow lover of the rain,” he says, opening the door for her.

The driver, a silent fellow that she’s only ever seen in films, doesn’t say anything to her as she slides in, but James says without any concern, “The party’s only twenty minutes from here, so we should be there soon.” He settled back next to her and his lips twitch as he looks at her.

Lily frowns at him. “What?”

James’s eyes glint behind his glasses. “Is the ink a new look?”

It takes a second to understand what he’s saying but when she does Lily’s hand flies to her cheek where she can feel the sticky residue of an ink stain. And it’s on her _hands_ too.

“Shit,” she says, grabbing her purse to look for a tissue. “Shit, I couldn’t sworn I made sure not to get myself dirty again—”

James is laughing and he grabs her hand. “Leave it,” he says. “It’s cute.”

Lily gives him a look. “You might be perfectly happy taking a jaunt in the rain and showing up to a party covered in ink,” she says flatly, “but I have reservations about the second one.” She locates a tissue and uses her phone camera to wipe off the ink. The one on her hands is dried, so she can’t do much about them, but the spot on her cheek manages to almost completely disappear. There’s still a little smudge, but that’s nothing that dim lighting can’t fix.

The car ride goes by quickly and when they step out onto the pavement of some fancy looking building, Lily is hit with a sudden bolt of anxiety. She can see the other cars pulling up, fancy looking people—a few of them she recognizes from the telly—walking towards the venue.

James steps out behind her and gives her a smile. “Into the jaws of hell and mouth of…whatever it is,” he says. Lily’s lips quirk up and in they go.

The party is wonderful, she thinks, even if she feels entirely out of her depth. It’s some sort of celebration for an award show and everyone seems to know James. They ignore Lily completely, but James, courteous gentlemen that he is, introduces her and always manages to push the conversation back to her. It’s thanks to him that she ends up talking to Jameela Jamil about art for twenty minutes.

“I adore you,” she says once Jameela has left, giving James’s arm a squeeze. “Truly, honestly adore you. I just _met_ Jameela Jamil. Like, actually met her face to face.”

James chuckles. “You know,” he muses, stealing two glasses of champagne from a nearby tray. “I’m slightly disappointed now that I didn’t get this reaction when you met me.”

Lily gives him a look. “Please,” she says, taking a sip of her champagne. “You might be a three time Oscar winner but she’s _Jameela Jamil._ You couldn’t outclass that if you tried.”

He snorts. “As if I’d want to,” he says. “Jameela’s fucking awesome.”

“Agreed. Now get me some of that promised really good food before I get so hungry I start snacking on Brie Larson’s dress.”

“It does look like a cocoa puff doesn’t it?” James says contemplatively, then grins when she swipes at him. “On it, on it. God, you’re so bossy, Evans.”

Lily sticks out her tongue at him.

The evening goes by in a blur and Lily spends most of it laughing. James mingles a little in the beginning, but ends up hanging out in the corner with her, telling her increasingly ridiculous stories about the celebrities around them that she’s doubtful are true.

She’s a little bit tipsy by the time they leave and she giggles as James opens the car door for her. “Colin Firth waved at me,” she informs him giddily as she collapses into the seat. “Like, actually waved.”

“I saw,” James says, chuckling. The car pulls away from the curb. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve ever had fun at one of these things.”

Lily snorts, leaning back. “I’d kill to go to these all time,” she says, kicking off her heels and relishing the freedom. “Imagine all the people you could meet.”

“There are drawbacks too, though,” James says, his voice a little quieter, and when she glances over his face has one contemplative.

Before she can change her mind, she says, “Why didn’t you take Remus to the party?”

James looks confused. “Remus? Why would I take Remus?”

Lily frowns. “He’s your boyfriend,” she says.

James gapes at her. “He’s—Remus is _not_ my boyfriend,” he sputters.

Lily’s heart pounds. “But you bought him flowers,” she says, not entirely in control of her mouth.

“Because he was in the hospital!” James says, twisting to face her. “He’s my best mate and he had bloody pneumonia—of course I got him flowers.”

“And the second time, he came with you—”

“I wanted to see _you,”_  James says loudly. “He came along because he wanted to see the girl I’d been blathering on about for the last week.” He looks upset. “You mean—you thought…”

“I didn’t know what to think!” Lily defends herself. “You came in, so I assumed--” she feels like a prize idiot. “Sorry,” she says.

James snorts. “Don’t be sorry,” he says, leaning back. “If anything it’s a compliment. I’d be lucky to get a bloke like Remus. I doubt he’d settle for me. I’m just put out that all my wooing attempts have been for nothing.”

Lily gapes at him. “Woo— _wooing_ attempts?”

James gives her a flat look. “I invited you to be my date for a party,” he says. “And I ran around with you in the rain. I have very high standards for rainy day jaunts, Lily Evans.”

Her heart is pounding and she can feel the flush working its way up her neck. _Shit._ “So, you don’t have a boyfriend?”

The driver snorts, then goes quiet again.

“No, I do not,” James says with a heavy sigh. He runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I must be even more terrible at this wooing game than I thought if this is where it ends up.”

“You’re not terrible!” Lily says far too loudly, and flushes. “You’re just, uh…getting lost in translation.” He still looks dejected, so she adds, “And if you were to, you know, try this…wooing…” she clears her throat, “thing again, I will be a more…receptive translator.”

He stares at her, and she’s not sure if its her ridiculous words or the sentiment behind them, but something makes his lips quirk up into a smile. “You, Lily Evans,” he tells her, “are a special sort of something.”

“A special sort of stupid, perhaps,” she says flatly.

The car pulls up to the pavement in front of her flat.

“A special sort of girl,” he corrects her. He finds her hand in the dark and squeezes it.

She squeezes it back and wonders if this is real.

“Thank you for the evening,” she says, her voice coming out a whisper. “I loved it.”

James’s gives her a half-smile. “Thank you for coming,” he says and lets go of her hand. “See you around, Evans.”

Lily gets out of the car and she can’t feel the cold air on her bare skin. The champagne has worn off, but she still feels like she’s filled with bubbles.

Mary can’t know, she decides as she mounts the stairs to the flat. She’d be insufferable.

And for right now, Lily just wants to remember the moment.

* * *

 

“Liiiily!” Mary calls out a sing-song voice the next morning when she reenters the shop at eleven AM. She’d gone out to get some pastries earlier and she’s been gone so long Lily was half-ready to call the police.

“Yes, my little songbird who can’t sing?” Lily replies with an eyeroll.

Mary shakes the bag of pastries at her. “Bad news—arsehole is at it again.”

Instantly Lily’s happy mood evaporates and her face settles into a scowl. She drops the bundle of flowers she’s holding and rushes to the door.

The quiet little street looks quite innocuous and Lily knows she’s getting strange looks from the passersby as she makes a beeline for the parking spot by the pavement.

Sirius has his car back.

She throws out her arms. “Stop!”

The car that’s about to pull into the spot screeches to a halt and a dark head sticks out of the window. “Get the fuck out of the way,” Sirius shouts.

“No!” Lily shouts back and waves her arms madly, well-aware she’s acting like a lunatic. She protects the parking spot with her body. She came in Mary’s car today, so it’s irrelevant, but it’s the _principle._ The principle that she didn’t bow into the arse-ishness of the Y chromosome population and protected her goddamn property.

Mary follows her out of the shop and she leans against the wall. “Black,” she says with a nod.

Sirius sneers, his dark hair tied back into a knot. “MacDonald.” He turns his glare on Lily. “ _Move,_ Evans.”

“This is my spot,” Lily hisses, pointing at the ground. “Mine. So get your stupid, diesel-wasting, fancy arse car _away.”_

“There aren’t assigned spots,” Sirius says flippantly and begins to pull forward. “Chill.”

“ _No,”_ Lily says and waves her arms again. A woman with her dog stops to stare at her and Lily bristles. No one with a poodle that ridiculous has any right to judge. She goes on furiously, “It’s been _too much_ of this bullshit--”

“For fuck’s sake, just _move_ , Evans,” Sirius snarls. He moves the car forward and Lily is forced to jump back to avoid getting run over.

“Why you little—”

“Is this a bad time?”

James blinks at them, holding a carboard container with two coffees in it.

Lily stares at him and against her will she can feel her cheeks turning red. _Damn it._

“Evans is cracked!” Sirius snaps, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him. The car is idling, half in the street, and some passing car honks. Sirius flips them off without looking back.

“I am _not!”_

“You’re barkers,” he snarls at Lily.

“And _you’re_ in my spot!” Lily snaps.

“This is the midmorning entertainment,” Mary says cheerfully.

“Can you all just calm down?” James asks exasperatedly. “Sirius, get out of Lily’s spot. And Lily—”

She turns her furious glare on him.

“Carry on,” he amends.

Sirius glares at James. “I should’ve known,” he spits. “Of course you’d side with _her.”_

James scowls at him. “There are no sides,” he says in a clipped tone.

Someone on the opposite side of the street has stopped and has their phone out. Mary raises her hand. “Not to be a party pooper,” she says, “but unless you’d all like to show up on next issue of People magazine with the juicy headline ‘world famous actor James Potter gets into a jealous argument with best mate over redhead’, I suggest we resolve the parking issue and move our smackdown indoors.”

James glances over and he winces. “Fuck. Alright--Sirius, just move the damn car.”

Sirius scowls, but reluctantly acquiesces.

As he backs out, Lily turns to James. She finds him smiling at her.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she says, unable to help herself from smiling back

His glance slides to the person still filming and he says, “Are you working right now?”

Lily shakes her head. “I’m on break,” she says. “Why?”

“Do you want to come up?” he asks. “You could stay for lunch.”

“No, she could not,” Sirius snaps as he passes them.

Lily scowls at him, then smiles at James. “Sure,” she says.

* * *

 

“You have kidnapped my best friend,” Mary informs Sirius. “I wish to pay the ransom.”

“You can have her free of charge,” Sirius grumbles.

“I can hear both of you,” Lily says, sprawled on their living room rug. James is lying on his side opposite her. “And I am offended that you are so flippant of our newfound tender mateship, Sirius. I really feel like we’ve bonded over the last twenty minutes. Also, Mary—ease up on the dramatics.”

“Brush up on your timekeeping skills, Lil,” Mary returns. “It’s half-past twelve. Your lunch break was over half an hour ago.”

Lily swears. “Shit, was it?” She looks guiltily at Mary. “Lost track of time,” she says. “We’re playing Cards Against Humanity.”

“She’s winning,” James mutters. He scowls at Lily. “Feel free to take her.”

“You know, I’m feeling a distinct lack of love and support in this flat,” Lily declares. “Perhaps I should leave.”

But Mary’s eyes had begun to twinkle. “Oh, you know what,” she says. “It’s actually not that busy. You can stay if you like, Lily.”

Lily glares at her, not fooled for a second by that innocent face, but just then Rita, who has been growling at Lily for the last hour, runs by and knocks over some vase.

James sighs. “Rita,” he groans. He glares balefully at the cat, who is spitting in the corner. “I should get rid of you,” he tells her. The cat yowls.

Lily draws a card. She snorts at it. “Celebrities,” she says, curling her lip. She looks at James. “Arses, the lot of them.”

“Besides me, you mean.”

“Including you.”

James clutches his heart. “That hurts, Evans,” he informs her, but he’s grinning at the same time so its hard to take him seriously.

“How the hell are you two friends?” Sirius stares at them with disgust.

“We’re not. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” they say at the same time and Lily makes a face at him.

“Intimately close,” Lily continues. “Seduce your enemies.”

“Marry your enemies and poison the wedding cake,” says James. “Boom.”

“I’m not marrying you if you’re going to bring the wedding cake into it, that’s just unnecessary.”

“I agree,” says James solemnly. “I went too far, I apologize.”

“Please forget I asked,” Sirius mutters. Mary looks delighted.

“Our friends are morons,” Lily tells James.

“I am aware,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I vote we get new ones. Except for Remus—he’s pretty alright.”

Lily groans, knowing he’s poking fun at her assumption and she says, “Dirty trick, Potter.”

He grins smugly. “I try. Now let’s get this game moving so I can use my meagre knowledge of card games to cheat a win out of you.”

* * *

 

Here’s the thing—objectively, Lily knows that James is an Oscar winning actor for a reason.

But it’s not until she—secretly, because Mary will never let her live it down if she finds out—spends an evening watching some of the movies he’s done that she appreciates that he’s a bloody good actor.

He really loves what he’s doing, that’s clear, which makes his sudden decision to leave LA that much more mystifying. The mystery is eating away at Lily, and she knows she’s too curious for her own good, but she wants to know why.

She wants to know him.

“Romeo is here,” Mary hums as she passes Lily on her way to the backroom one day. Lily scowls at her, but isn’t surprised.

James has taken to coming into the store whenever she’s on break—he’s got an unerring sense for her schedule, probably aided by the fact that he lives upstairs and he can tell when they’re busy or not—and just chatting with her.

Lily is currently working on one of the pieces she’s planning to submit for Dorcas, but she puts it aside as James enters the shop.

“I brought chocolate,” he says, holding up a bag full of pastries as proof. “And I had to fight a little old lady for the last donut, so it better be appreciated.”

“Chocolate is always appreciated,” Lily says. “Isn’t that right, Mary?”

“Did you bring alcohol?” Mary asks.

James blinks. “No,” he says, sounding disappointed he hadn’t thought of it.

Mary grunts and eyes him. “Thank God you’ve got your looks,” she sighs and steals a chocolate biscuit. “I’m going to do inventory.”

“You do that,” Lily says and takes her own biscuit. She smiles at James. “How are you?”

“Good,” he says, taking Mary’s empty seat. “Strangely bored,” he confesses, glancing up at her. “I’ve been working nonstop for the past six years. I haven’t even gone on vacation.”

“Withdrawal symptoms,” Lily says, shaking her head. “Normal life’s hard to adjust to, Mr. Movie Star.”

He scowls good-naturedly at her. “I thought we were past that,” he complains. “I just…I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.”

Lily watches him carefully. “Why did you leave Hollywood?” she asks him, afraid that he won’t tell her, and also afraid of what he’ll say if he does.

James glances at her, a strangely guilty look on his face and says, “I didn’t lie to you before, I did need a break from the spotlight, but…”

“That’s not the whole story,” Lily finishes for him. “I figured.”

He raises a brow and Lily rolls her eyes. “James, no world famous actor decides in the middle of their career that they want to go into an early retirement for no reason.”

“I’m not retired,” James corrects her. “I’ll act again. Or at least I hope I will.” He looks uncomfortable. “My mum…she hasn’t been doing very well lately. She has cancer.”

Lily’s eyes widen and she opens her mouth to say something, anything, but before she can he hurries to add, “Not very bad, or anything. It’s treatable and the doctors say she’s almost entirely out of danger. But she’s still sick, and she doesn’t know her own limits very well and I’ve had Sirius check up on her when I can’t--but I can’t do that forever.”

“So you’re coming home,” Lily says. “To help your mum.”

He nods. “She doesn’t live too far from here,” he says. “It’s where I go during the day. And I love acting, but it takes me all over the place and I have to be on set all the time—” he clutches his hair tightly and looks at her. “I’d take my mum over a career any day.”

Lily’s heart twists. “You’re a decent bloke, James Potter,” she says. “I wouldn’t have thought it, but you are.”

James snorts, a bit of light coming back to his eyes. “No celebrity is decent,” he replies. “We’re just really good at faking it.”

Lily makes a face at him and he laughs.

His laugh is brilliant, she realizes. Brilliant and intoxicating.

He catches her looking at him and his expression changes, turning softer. She can see the green flecks in his eyes behind his glasses.

Lily swallows, imperceptibly leaning in.

James smiles. “I’m glad I met you, Lily Evans,” he says and then he kisses her.

It’s a soft first kiss, just brushing lips together and hands reaching for a place to hold. Lily can feel the thud of her heart as she closes her eyes, and she thinks she could hear the thud of his too.

Slowly, he draws away and she opens her eyes to look at him. He’s still smiling, but its softer and he brushes his fingers over her cheek. “Very glad,” he says softly.

Lily smiles back at him. She can still feel the brush of his lips over hers and her skin is tingling.

_She just kissed James Potter._

She can hear Mary moving things around in the backroom, likely making a mess instead of doing inventory. “I’ve got a break right now,” Lily says. “Do you want to go get coffee?”

James starts to smile, then his face slips into a frown. “Fuck, I can’t. I’m on my way to visit my mum.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment is clear and James laughs a little.

“You know,” he says, squinting at her. “If you wanted, you could come along.”

Her heart jumps. “What, meet your mum?”

He nods. “She’d love you,” he says. “And my dad’s pretty cool too.”

“Are you sure?” Lily asks.

James nods and she doesn’t let herself hesitate before she says, “Sure. I’d love to.”

* * *

 

James is, to her amusement, a very careful driver and the usually thirty minute drive into the countryside ends up taking an hour. Not that she’s really complaining.

The sun is shining by the time they pull up to a circular gravel driveway. Lily gets out of the car and feels her jaw drop. Because his mum’s house…well, she’s not sure it can even be called a house.

James joins her and she glances at him. “Fame has its perks,” she says.

James snorts. “I suppose,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets. The expansive stone patio off the front of the house is covered in flowers, French doors positively _everywhere._ And the grounds around it… “But this place has been in the family for years.”

“Oh, I see,” Lily says, making a face. “None of that self-made bullshit for you Potters.”

James scowls playfully at her and she laughs, then they mount the stairs.

Lily takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous. She and James…she doesn’t know what they are. But she’s still meeting his mum and that means something.

James is about to knock on the door when it swings open violently.

“You’re late, darling,” a tall woman informs them. She looks like James—the same stern forehead and brown skin, but her hair is streaked with grey. She’s also wearing the tallest heels Lily has ever seen. “I know it doesn’t take that long to get here from Sirius’s flat.”

“You mean at the speed Sirius drives?” James counters with a snort. “I’d think you’d be pleased you didn’t raise a reckless fool.”

“Reckless fools are on time,” she says, then turns towards Lily with a blinding smile. “You must be Lily,” she says. “You’re all James talks about lately.”

_“Mum.”_

“Hush,” his mum says firmly, opening the door and letting them in. “I’m Euphemia Potter, dear,” she says and Lily shakes her hand. “Lovely to meet you.”

“You as well,” Lily says, a bit stunned. The foyer of the house is stunning—a curving mahogany staircase curves up into the upper levels of the house and the black and white tile floor is shiny enough for Lily to almost make out her reflection. The furniture in this room alone is enough make Lily feel underdressed in her sundress, but Euphemia is wearing a pair of jeans, so she tries not to worry about it.

“Your father had to pop out,” Euphemia tells them as she leads them into a sitting room that looks straight out of the Louvre. “So I’m afraid it’s just us for tea.”

“No problem,” James says easily. “I’ll catch him next time.”

There’s a tea set waiting for them on a little table between couches and Lily sees three cups and gathered that either Euphemia is a witch who can see the future or possibly has invisible servants at her beck and call. Euphemia promptly takes the armchair, leaving them to take the couch.

As Lily sits down and sees the twinkle in the woman’s dark eyes, she thinks Mary would have gotten on well with her.

“Sugar, Lily?” Euphemia asks, handing her a teacup.

“Yes, please, Mrs. Potter” Lily says.

Euphemia waves a hand. “Please, dear, call me Euphemia. Mrs. Potter is my mother in law, ghastly woman.”

Lily smiles. The tea is fantastic and James spots the biscuits and his face lights up.

“I adore you,” he tells his mum and makes a beeline for them.

“I should hope so,” Euphemia says sternly. “And I didn’t suffer through 48 hours of labor for a sloppy eater, so for goodness sake take a napkin.”

Lily muffles a laugh.

Euphemia smiles at her. “I understand I have you to thank for the piss off flowers,” she says, stirring her tea.

Lily chokes. “Uh…”

Euphemia snorts. “They were marvelous,” she says. “I like to see I raised a son with a little backbone. And you’re a talented florist. Excellent arrangement of flower meaning.”

“Thank you,” Lily says.

“Hey, I was the one who thought of it!” James protests.

Euphemia pats his hand. “Yes, very good, dear,” she tells him. “But I have no doubt that were it not for Lily, you would have sent me a bouquet of weeds. Now let the women talk.”

Lily decides that she loves this woman.

James settles back into the cushions, grumbling.

Euphemia asks her about her work and Lily answers her questions as well as she can, then they spend a good fifteen minutes poking fun at all of the awkward scenes in James’s movies, until he jumps to his feet and declares he won’t take any of the abuse anymore.

“Begone,” he tells his mum, pouting. “I won’t visit you anymore if you’re mean to me.”

Lily laughs so hard she has to put her teacup down and Euphemia grins smugly.

James glances at her. “Don’t think I don’t notice you too,” he grumbles. “Bloody traitor.”

Lily makes a face at him.

“You know,” Euphemia says. “I really should check in on Fleamont. Lord knows he’s gotten lost in the supermarket before. James, why don’t you show Lily around a bit.”

James watches her leave with a lowered brow, then turns to Lily. “Dad hasn’t gone to a supermarket in ten years,” he tells her. “My mum’s not exactly subtle.”

Lily laughs, getting to her feet. “Seems her methods work, though,” she says.

James grins as well and leads her through another archway. They enter some sort of long hallway filled with statues, like a gallery and Lily tilts her head up to look at the ceiling. “Beautiful,” she says, admiring the painted fresco of the sky. “Very classical.”

“The famous Potter unsubtly,” James says with a grin. He grabs her hand and pulls her past the gallery. “This is where I used to hide growing up,” he tells her, showing her a small cranny behind a pillar. “Mum always knew, of course, but she’d pretend not to find me for ages.”

“She’s great,” Lily tells him. “Wonderful.” She sighs. “Makes me miss my mum.”

“Do you see yours often?” he asks her, leaning against the wall.

Lily nods. “Every few months or so,” she says. “I think the only reason they let me live so far away is because Mary is with me.”

“Mary is their idea of a responsible chaperone?” James asks flatly.

“My parents are easily impressed.”

He laughs and he looks so at ease, leaning against the wall in his childhood home that she has to lean forward and kiss him.

It’s strange, because they’ve only done this once before and they’re not even dating, but it feels so normal to kiss him like this. He wraps an arm around her waist and drags her closer to him.

Lily smiles into the kiss, hand cupping his jaw. “Is it bad to snog you in your childhood home?” she whispers between kisses.

James groans and kisses her hard. “Fuck it,” he says, then manages to make Lily forget her own name for a while.

They stay in the gallery, tangled up together, hands and mouths seeking, long enough for Euphemia to make ten phone calls and Lily knows she should feel mortified—and likely will later—but at this moment, with his mouth on hers, she can’t bring herself to care about anything at all.

Eventually, she draws away with a ragged groan. “We should go back,” she tells him.

James pouts and she has to kiss that frown. “My mum can survive without us,” he pleads. “She’ll be pleased, if anything.”

“I don’t want your mum’s first opinion of me to be that I drag her son off to dark corners to snog him,” Lily tells him.

James rolls his eyes. “Trust me, she’ll love you even more,” he says, playing with her fingers. “Five more minutes?”

Lily rolls her eyes, but lets him kiss her a little longer because she’s weak and Euphemia _could_ wait a little longer.

They return to the tea room a little out of breath but hopefully not too rumpled and Euphemia isn’t back yet, which Lily finds suspicious, especially when she pops into the room scant seconds later.

“Sorry that took so long,” she says, giving them a twinkling smile. Her smirk is wicked. “Have fun exploring?”

“Tons,” James says with a straight face. “We inspected some antique wallpaper.”

Lily flushes and pinches him subtly in the side. He grins.

Euphemia hums and gives Lily a smile. “Well, it was lovely to meet you, Lily,” she says. “I expect to hear from you the next time James comes to visit.”

Lily smiles at her. “I’d like that,” she says. “Thank you for the tea.”

Euphemia beams, then turns to James. “And you,” she tells him, “you better bring this one back. I like her much better than that Melanie girl.”

James chokes. “Mum, please!” he says, a distinct flush to his cheeks. “Can you not make me look like an absolute cad?”

“If the shoe fits,” Euphemia says sweetly as they reach the front door. She pulls it open and gives Lily a hug.

Lily gets over her surprise quickly and returns it, feeling sad to go. “Nice to meet you,” she says.

James hugs his mum after that and says something to her too quiet for Lily to hear, but that makes Euphemia pat his back. “You old mother hen,” she tells him. “Off with you, and tell Sirius that he better come visit me soon.”

James waves. “Will do,” he promises.

They descend the dramatic porch and Lily finds herself smiling as she gets back into James’s car. “I love your mum,” she says as they pull away. “She’s wonderful.”

James grins. “She is,” he admits. “Even if she does drive me spare occasionally.”

“The best people do,” Lily says.

“Isn’t that the truth,” James laughs, shaking his head.

He drives a little faster on the way back and declares that she is the best person in the world when she puts on _1989_ and they both dance and shout the lyrics extremely off key as they race through the countryside.

They arrive back at the shop around five and Mary watches them come in with a smug smirk on her face.

“Have fun?” she says, leaning against the countertop.

Lily wrinkles her nose at her. “We did,” she declares, “even if James _cannot_ sing.”

“Oy, you can’t sing either!” he jabs. “When you were singing How You Get The Girl I thought Rita snuck into the car.”

She hits him on the arm and he ducks away, laughing. “Alright, I’m leaving while I still have all my limbs attached,” he says and before she can say anything else he gives her a quick kiss. “I’ll call you,” he says, waving to Mary, then leaves.

Lily’s face is red and she can’t look at Mary. She chances a glance at the register and sees the beyond smug look on her face.

“I--” Mary begins and Lily cuts her off. “If the next words out of your mouth are ‘told you so’, I will end our friendship,” she snaps, but she’s still blushing and she can still feel James’s lips on hers.

Mary cackles.

* * *

 

James drops by the next day while Mary is in the backroom and Lily thanks heaven for small miracles. Mary hadn’t stopped the catcalling and suggestive comments since yesterday, and she was seriously considering getting a new best friend.

“Hello,” James says, striding over and kissing her deeply. Lily’s eyes drift closed and she smiles against his mouth. He sighs, meeting her eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he confesses. “Sirius kicked me out of the flat.”

Lily laughs, a funny— _wonderful—_ feeling twirling in her stomach. “Me too,” she says, shifting away, but keeping hold of his hand.

James spots her work and his eyebrows raise. “What are you doing?” he asks, leaning forward to take a look at the papers and pens strewn across the countertop.

“Just some sketches I said I’d submit for a friend’s magazine,” Lily says with a shrug. “They’re really not very good--”

James raises a hand to silence her and she does. She watches him warily as he silently takes in her work.

“Fucking hell,” he says when he’s done, shaking his head. He looks up and his face is awestruck. “Lily—these are _amazing.”_

Lily shifts uncomfortably. “They’re not,” she protests. She fiddles with the ends of her hair. “Really. I haven’t practiced in ages.”

“Then I can’t imagine what you’d look like in your top form,” James says, lifting a piece of paper with the silhouette of a woman on it. “Why the hell don’t you use these?”

“I am,” Lily retorts. “They’re going to be in a magazine. But other than that I don’t have any interest in doing it.”

He gives her a flat look. “Why?” he demands.

Lily crosses her arms. Her skin prickles. “Because I don’t,” she snaps. “Because…art was just a pipe dream I had growing up. I studied it all through uni, and it got me nowhere. Three weeks before I graduated I sat up with Mary in my dorm room and realized I had no job waiting for me as soon as I finished school. Mary didn’t know what she wanted to do either, so we just ended up here.”

“And this is what you want to do?”

“Yes!” Lily says. “No! God, I don’t _know.”_

James looks at her, his brow furrowed. “You love to draw,” he says.

It isn’t a question, but Lily nods regardless. She does love it, it just wasn’t a career.

“Do you love flowers as much as you love art?” he asks.

Lily considers it, looking around the familiar little shop. “In different ways,” she deflects. “I love this shop with my whole heart--”

“That doesn’t mean it’s the thing you should spend your life doing,” James points out.

Lily glares at him. “This isn’t any of your business,” she snaps. “Just leave it.”

But James’s face tightens. He puts down her drawings and steps back. “I’m an actor, Lily,” he says, “because I love acting. And I’m putting that on hold because I love my mum more. You can love this shop, and you can love your art. You just have to choose which one you want to spend your life doing.”

He leaves.

Alone Lily lets out a muffled groan and drops her head onto the countertop.

There’s quiet footsteps and Mary brushes her hand over her shoulder. “He has a point, you know,” she says quietly.

“I know,” Lily says into the counter. “That’s why I hate it.”

Slowly, she lifted her head and met Mary’s sympathetic gaze. She looked around the shop, the yellow painted walls with the flowers set up in stands, the chalkboard she drew with the daily specials. Then she looks at the papers on the countertop, the ink drawings and the careful lines she can see even in her sleep.

“You won’t have a job,” Lily says quietly.

Mary rests her chin on Lily’s shoulder and wraps an arm around her. “I know,” she says. “I know.” She presses her chin into Lily’s neck. “You and me, Lil,” she says. “No matter what.”

Lily just holds onto her.

* * *

 

Once she’s composed herself and Mary has gone home, Lily decides to close the shop early.

She’s locking the front door when she sees Sirius pull up and park along the curb. He gets out of the car, leather jacket unzipped carelessly.

“Taking it easy on me today?” she asks him.

Sirius shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets. He ambles up to her. “James was by earlier, wasn’t he?” he asks.

Lily nods. “He left a bit ago,” she says. She thinks about the kiss and she flushes, and then she thinks about her future and she feels ill. She can’t make a decision today.

Sirius nods and then stands there silently for a moment.

Lily stares at him. “Is there something you need?” she asks eventually.

Sirius finally looks up at her. “No—actually, yes.” He steps close to her, meeting her eyes. His face is unexpectedly grim. “Don’t…be careful with James,” he says. “James falls in faster than he should and sometimes he doesn’t wait to see if the other person feels the same way.”

Lily watches Sirius carefully. “I do,” she says quietly. She twists her keys in her hands. “I do, but it’s…”

“Complicated,” Sirius finishes. “Yeah, isn’t it always.” He tilts his head up and looks at the flat above the shop. She can see a dim light in one of the windows, meaning James is at home. “He really likes you,” he says.

“I really like him,” Lily says. It’s the first time she’s said the words aloud. That she’s turned into every one of those twittering fans she’s always scorned. _She really likes James Potter._

Sirius glances at her and gives her one of those patented scowls. “I still hate you,” he tells her, stepping back. “But…maybe you’re not the worst thing for him.”

Lily’s lips quirk up. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she says.

He sneers and turns away. “Whatever, Evans.”

Lily’s lips quirk as he enters the building, then she turns her gaze back to the flower shop.

_Madame Rosaline’s Flower Shop,_ the sign declares in loopy script.

She and Mary hadn’t changed the name when they bought the business from the kind little old lady. It’s been here for years, and Lily thinks she and Mary have done a good job keeping it up. The people of the town love the shop, and they love Mary and Lily because they own the shop.

Lily loves the shop.

“It’ll keep on going,” she whispers to herself. This place couldn’t be changed by new owners or time. “It’ll be fine.” She touches the worn painted exterior of it. _I’ll be fine._

* * *

 

Lily shoves the box to the side, scowling as it makes a less than satisfying thump. The night-darkened shop is in partial shambles around her, the signs of change just beginning to show. “I can’t find it,” she says into the phone she’s suspending between her chin and shoulder. “God, Mary, you have so much shit--”

“It’s there,” Mary insists, her voice tinny and crackling. “I swear I left the packing list there.”

Lily presses the phone to her ear. “You swear or you think?”

“One of them?”

Lily groans. “This is hell,” she mutters, looking at the chaos around them. “We’re never going to get everything packed up.”

“Have James help,” Mary suggests and she can hear the sounds of Mary shuffling things around in the kitchen.

Lily’s stomach clenches. “I haven’t heard from him in a week,” she says, hating the words, hating herself for being disappointed by it. “Maybe he went back to his Hollywood lifestyle.”

“He didn’t,” Mary says certainly and Lily doesn’t have the energy to argue with her. “Look, can’t we just make a new list?”

“I hope to hell you’re better at your new job than you are at this one,” Lily tells her.

Mary snorts. “Are you kidding me? My application was complete bullshit. Have I ever financially managed _anything?_ But it pays.”

Lily feels like she has to say it. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare, Lily Evans,” Mary says and she can picture the stern look on her face. “You are going to chase your dream and if I have to work for a shitty corporation doing a job I am in on way qualified for it to happen, then it will. Now make a new packing list and come home so we can drink away our uncertain futures.”

Lily laughs, a warm feeling blossoming in her chest. “I love you, Mary,” she says.

“I know,” Mary says. “And I love you too. Now get a move on.”

She hangs up and Lily feels herself smiling as she turns back to her packing job. She picks up a rose and stares at it, wondering what the hell she’s doing.

The tinkling of the bell alerts her to a visitor and she tenses, somehow knowing, but she doesn’t turn around until James comes to a stop beside her.

The dim lighting washes them both out and for a long moment neither of them say anything.

“I heard you’re selling the business,” James says quietly.

She glances over and finds him looking at her. She swallows. “Yeah. One of our old customers—her daughter wants to buy it and Mary and I agreed…” her voices fades out. She fiddles with the frayed edge of her sleeve and looks around the shop. _Her_ shop. She feels sad and relieved all at once.

As though reading her thoughts, James meets her eyes and asks, “Are you okay?”

Lily thinks about it for a moment, then shrugs. “I will be,” she says with a sigh. “I will be.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t called you recently,” James says. “I was visiting my mum for a week and the cell service down there is shit, so—”

“James.” He stops and she meets his gaze. “It’s fine.”

But he doesn’t look happy with that. “Tell me I didn’t push you into this,” he says. “You’re not doing this because of me, are you?”

“No,” Lily says and is surprised to find its true. “I’m doing it because of me. You were right, though. I’ve been holding on to this because I’m scared of what I might find outside.”

“Then I’m glad,” James says softly. He looks nervous for a second. “I actually have some news too. I got an acting job.”

Lily’s eyes widen. “What? James, that’s amazing.”

He nods and there’s a spark in his eyes. “It’s for a local film,” he tells her. “I don’t have to leave the area except for the occasional weekend trip to New York. And it’s got a great plot and message, so I feel good about doing it.”

Lily smiles at him. “Congratulation,” she tells him sincerely.

His lips quirk up and he shrugs. “Luck,” he says. “Fate and all that bullshit.”

She’s looking at him and _fuck_ , she’s hit by it all of a sudden. How when she first saw him he was James Potter, the celebrity watching her yell. And now he’s…James.

James in a beat up sweater, with crooked glasses and a demon cat and a wonderful mother. James, standing right in front of her.

He’s opening his mouth to say something else when Lily surges forward and kisses him.

He freezes with surprise at first, but then she winds her arms around his neck and he relaxes into her, pulling her closer.

He kisses her back and she’s kissing a celebrity but she’s kissing _James._

She could’ve stayed like that forever, but after a moment she draws back, lips still bare centimeters from his. Her skin is tingling, her heart pounding and she feels out of control but so _right._

“What are you doing?” he breathes.

“I don’t know,” Lily says. She brushes her thumb over his cheek. “But whatever the future is, I think I want it to include you.”

His eyes begin to brighten. “You think, do you?”

Lily laughs. “I know.”

He kisses her again, then pulls away. His face turns serious. “Lily…this isn’t going to be simple,” he says, letting out a breath. “I can’t hide here forever and people…people are going to notice. They’re going to ask questions, pry into your personal life, badger your family—in the end you might decide this isn’t worth it. That I’m not worth it. I’m not so sure that I am.”

Lily waits until he’s finished, then kisses him. “I don’t care,” she says. “I don’t care. I don’t care how much baggage you come with James Potter—I want _you.”_

He’s smiling and Lily can feel the pounding of her heart, the frightening rushing sensation that this isn’t real, that this can’t possibly be happening to her. “Even if we never get any privacy for the rest of our lives?” he asks her.

“We’ll set Rita on them,” she promises, smiling at him.

James kisses her, alone in the flower shop, the rest of the world going by around them. She smiles against his lips and holds onto him even tighter.

Maybe, she thinks, just maybe there’s something to be said about fate after all.

 


End file.
